


It remains, for us to burn tomorrow

by originalbee



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Chronic Illness, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:35:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28502313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originalbee/pseuds/originalbee
Summary: When the expiry date on your life is coming up fast, taking a sick day isn't an option, but sometimes the mind and body doesn't understand that.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	It remains, for us to burn tomorrow

V wakes to the sound of rain lashing against her apartment window, and an unrelenting spike of pain in the base of her skull. She had felt it building the day before; a combination of relic malfunction, sleep deprivation, and a near constant stress over the forever shortening countdown that had recently been placed on her life. For the most part she had managed to ignore it, hoping that when she finally finished her business for the day, and crawled her sorry ass back to her apartment, that a hot shower and a good night’s sleep would fix it. But V wakes to find that it’s only gotten worse.

It takes her a second to force heavy eyelids open, but the scramble of red code and blurred warning signs that consume her vision are enough to send her stomach into backflips and she quickly closes them again. She let’s a low groan roll from deep in her chest and moves to press her face into the pillow.

The spasms of pain caused by the biochips’ steady take-over of her neural system had been growing worse with each passing day, but it had been over a week since she had first woken up at Vik’s, feeling like she had been ripped apart and stapled back together again, and since then she had yet to wake to find herself already in such a deteriorating state.

She knows she’s been abusing what little health she has left, pushing herself throughout the day until the pain became too much and she had no choice but to call it quits, or risk flatlining in some grim back alley. She hadn’t taken the time to consider what she would do when the days began with as much pain as they ended. All she knew was that time was working against her and she had too much to do; too many people to meet with, to many missions to organise, to many decisions to make.

She couldn’t afford to take a day off.

Slowly, she braces each arm on either side of her body and pushes up. It consumes the last dregs of her energy but she gets herself sitting, somewhat slumped, her legs tucked to one side and her chin pressing against her chest as she wills her lungs to keep sucking in air. The muscles in her arms spasm as the feverish ache running through her limbs turns into something fierce; fiery needles stabbing at every nerve, making it feel like her skin is being picked off her bones one cell at a time.

It’s all too much. She has no choice but to lower herself back down onto the mattress and ride out the waves of pain until they’ve died down to something closer to manageable.

She fucking hates this. It isn’t enough that she’s fighting against time, and fighting against her mind, but now she has to fight against her body too.

She really can’t waste time playing sick right now.

Because it’s her own time - her own life - that she’s wasting away in doing so.

But at the same time, what if she just took a day to rest? Would Takamura be annoyed if she pushed their meeting back to tomorrow? Would Viktor be disappointed that she wasn’t spending every last minute working towards a fix for this mess?

Would Johnny be angry that she let a little pain make her so damn weak?

She misses Jackie. He would have known what to do, what to say. “Just take a day, chica. What you miss today you can do even better tomorrow. Take care of yourself first.” He would have fielded her calls, passed on jobs to the right people, and not left her apartment except to collect Mama Welle’s home-made cooking; ‘eat up, and you’ll feel better in no time mija’ lovingly scrawled onto a note for her.

A sob catches in V’s throat. The pain is making her emotional, she knows, but life isn’t exactly fair right now and she’s pretty damn sure she’s allowed to have a break-down over recent events at least once. It’s a bitter and selfish thought, but if these are her last days alive, and V has to be honest with herself here because they most definitely are, then she should be able to spend however the fuck she wanted.

It takes V’s fever ridden mind far longer than it should to notice the pressure at her back. For a second she can’t seem to decide whether it’s in her mind or in real life, until she realises that it’s a strange mix of both because it’s Johnny who’s sat himself against her. V doesn’t turn around, but if she dips deep enough into her mind she can feel him as he sits there, glasses on and cigarette in hand, feet swinging an inch off the floor from how far back he’s sat himself, his lower back pressing into hers. He doesn’t say anything, for which V is unsurprised and entirely grateful. Her processors are barely keeping up with being conscious, she doubts she could hold a conversation.

It’s calming, the sense of relief she feels at having him close. But it doesn’t stop the reality of her situation from seeping in from all corners. She could stay curled up all day, safe with him by her side, but it would be another day ticked off the countdown and what if she never recovered from this; what if this was the beginning of a downward spiral in her health and she spent the remainder of her days lying around, feeling pathetic and hating the world for what it had done to her, but not doing a damn thing to try and change it. 

She needed to get up.

But Johnny preempts her, counteracts the attempt with a hand against her arm, pushing her back down.

“Johnny…” V mumbles, nerves already alight from the slight movement.

“I got you, kid.” Is all he says, voice like gravel and honey. V sinks back into the mattress at the sound of it, and closes her eyes again. “Rest. Plenty of time to make the world burn tomorrow.”


End file.
